Waiting in the Dark
by Mothersquirrel
Summary: Callian. Rated M for smut in future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

"_Maybe you didn't try hard enough."_

Cal sat behind his desk in his dark office, and leaned back on the chair, his hands resting behind his head, his eyes shut, and his brow furrowed. It had been a while since she'd said it, but those words still played on him whilst he was alone. God, he wanted her. Was that Foster's way of telling him she wanted him too?

He had to know.

Quickly, he stood, determined to discover if there was still a chance that Foster could be his. He swung himself around his desk, and grabbed his coat from the sofa. He strode purposefully out of his office, making sure he locked it after he went. He wanted to make sure Loker didn't bloody go snooping in his office, stealing his pens again. The bastard.

As he walked through the corridor to the front door, he heard a noise. Cal spun on his heel, keys in one hand, jacket draped over his other arm, and his back towards the exit. He thought everyone had left. He cast his mind back.. Loker and Torres had left; he'd seen them leave, about an hour ago. One by one, the office staff had left, but as much as he tried to, Cal could not remember Gillian leave.

He hadn't seen her since lunch, and she rarely left without coming to his office to say goodbye.

That meant that she was still here.

All of Cal's previous confidence left him, and for once, his heartbeat quickened, and he found himself full of nerves.

_Not going to chicken out now, are ya?_ Cal berated himself. _Come on, she's just in there._

Slowly, Cal walked to the room he thought the noise had come from. He threw his keys into his other hand, and rested his now free hand on the handle, and, before he opened it, he took a deep, calming breath.

"Cal…?"

"Jesus!"

Cal spun around to see Gill sitting on the couch outside his office. He must have walked right past her in his determination, and not even noticed.

"Are you trying to bloody kill me?" Cal half shouted at her, trying to be angry, but failing miserable as he watched Gillian burst into fits of laughter.

"Sorry..." She gasped between giggles, "I was just waiting for you to come out. I was wondering if we could go for that drink you promised me."

Cal's heartbeat slowed as he recovered from the shock, and he forced a smile to hide his nerves. He swallowed, before answering, his voice wobbling slightly.

"Yeah, love, sure."

"What's wrong? You seem nervous, Cal," Gillian said, sitting up, all trace of laughter gone from her face. Gill could read him like a book.

Cal remained silent. He walked over to Gillian, who shuffled down the sofa, sliding her feet under her, and patted the seat next to him before resting her hands, one on top of the other, on her knees. Cal dropped his coat on the floor, and reclined back in the corner of the sofa, facing Gillian with his head cocked to the side, analysing her, spinning his keys on his index finger in a feeble attempt to appear carefree.

Her pupils were large... Which Cal would have taken for arousal, had it not been so damn dark.

"I was just thinking…" Cal began, somewhat carefully, "about that time when I got shoved in that mental 'ospital."

"Oh… Do you want to talk about it? Emily told me you spoke to your Father as well as-"

"Nah, I mean, before I went in, I said that I couldn't even touch you when you were on the rebound, and you replied that 'Maybe I didn't try hard enough'."

"Yes...?"

"Did that mean I missed my chance?"

Gillian froze, her eyes locked on Cal, unable to answer him. Cal, however, didn't need the words to know he hadn't. He stopped spinning his keys, catching them smoothly in his palm as they swung around. He leaned forwards, and chucked them lightly onto the table, where they slid across the smooth surface, and fell on the floor.

He looked up, to see Gillian's eyes still following his every movement. She bit her lip slightly, and her thumb slowly circled the skin on the back of her other hand. He turned his body towards her, and picked up her hand, bringing it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles lightly, his eyes still fixed on Gillian. Turning her hand over, he traced her palm with his lips, trailing her wrist with his tongue.

Gillian exhaled suddenly, and Cal realized that he hadn't noticed that she was tensed. Gillian did something to him, flustered him, made him lose track of what was going on.

Cal let go of her wrist, and Gillian pulled it back to settle on her lap.

"Where did that come from, Cal?"

Cal didn't know how to answer her. He found it hard, so hard to be open with anyone, even someone he trusted as much as Gillian. He frowned, before leaning back again, his eyes scanning Gillian's face. He had to get out, before he did something stupid. Something that would hurt her. Breaking eye contact, he exhaled deeply.

In a one fluid motion, Cal picked up his coat, and stood up.

"Rain-check," He said, before swerving neatly around the table, and walking past Gillian.

Gillian opened her mouth to tell him to wait, but before the words could escape, he was gone. Still sitting on her own, her mind reeled. Her mind was racing as she contemplated what had just happened, and what it meant. Cal had kissed her. Asked if she still wanted him.

God, she did.

But then… He'd ran. He'd crossed the line they'd drawn, and then he'd ran away from her. She stood, ready to leave.  
>But as she walked out the room, something caught her eye, bringing her up short. She paused, and turned, and knelt down, reaching out, and picked up Cal's<p>

keys from the floor. She weighed them in her hand, thinking.

_He can't leave without his keys, _She thought, _His car key is here, so he's going to have to come back… And talk to me.  
><em>With a thin smile, Gillian stood. She walked to Cal's door, unlocked it, and let herself inside, and flicking on the lights before settling down on the cool leather sofa to wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Cal sped out of the office, and made a beeline for his car. As he drew neared he, instinctively shoved his hand in his pocket to grasp his keys. The fact that his pocket was empty halted Cal's feet, just as he stood on the edge of the pavement. He abruptly turned to face the office, as it dawned upon him that his keys were still upstairs. His heart sank. Gillian still hadn't emerged from the door; she knew he'd forgotten his keys. Was she waiting for him?

As this thought developed, Cal, horrified, took a step backwards, forgetting about the small drop behind him. His foot wobbled precariously on the corner, his arms spinning frantically, back arched, coat flung behind him, in a desperate attempt to regain his balance.

An attempt that had failed miserably.

Cal thudded to the ground, skidding backwards in a motion that ripped through his suit, and tore at the flesh below, whilst simultaneously knocking the wind from his lungs.

"Bugger, " He wheezed, as he shoved himself up, curtly bobbing on the balls of his feet once he regained his standing position, looking around to see who might have seen him lose his battle with gravity.

As he realized that his nobody was around to have seen him, Cal turned his attention to the throbbing pain in his right arm, and the blood slowly trickling its way down his arm from a deep cut in his elbow and his shoulder, across his ribs, snaking its way down his wrist, and mingling with a few grazes on his palm and hand, before dripping off his index finger, whilst a blood stained his shirt from a graze down his back.

He needed to get himself fixed up, and the realization that he was going to have to go and ask Gillian for help crashed down on Cal like a ton of bricks. There was no way he was getting out of this one. He inhaled deeply, and, before he lost his nerve and started to walk home, Cal swooped down to pick his up his coat from the floor behind him, and strutted back into the building, his arm throbbing with each step.

He climbed the stairs slowly at first, wincing as each step resonated through his bloody shoulder and elbow, before unconsciously speeding up towards the top of the stairs, skipping up the last two in a single bound. He attempted to swagger through the door, before realizing that the rolling motion broke the slightly healed scrapes down his shoulder and back, causing them to crack and bleed once again.

"Ouch," He muttered to himself, before stopping short; Gillian was nowhere to be seen in the reception area, but his office door was open, and the light was on.

He pulled his jacket around his shoulders to cover the most of the blood stains on his pale blue shirt, before taking a few tentative steps forwards, until his feet stood just behind the door, and he cautiously peeked his head around the corner.

Gillian was sitting behind his desk, in his chair, feet on the table, spinning his keys on her finger. From the second Cal's head had popped around the corner, Gillian's eyes were locked in his. Cal, shocked at being spotted so quickly pulled back quickly, before turning into his office, realizing instantly that, as he'd been spotted, he had no other alternative.

"Alright, Gil?" he asked, in a breezy tone, "Chuck us my keys, bit of a hurry, y'know, what with Em being at-"

"Emily is at her mothers, Cal." Gillian replied somewhat bluntly, but with a smile playing on her lips as she saw what Cal was trying to do. "You told me this morning, remember?"

"Oh," said Cal, stumped, "Right."

"It's why I asked you to go for a drink tonight, Cal." Gillian explained, "I miss just being with you."

Gill's eyes bored into Cal as he stood before her, and for a while, Cal stood dumb, unable to reply, staring blankly at her, his eyes drinking her face, her dress, and her legs. _Oh God, her legs_. They seemed to go on forever. Toned, smooth, a hint of tan, before they tapered, and her feet began, which, balancing on the balls of her feet, and flicking off her heels with her toes, were a pair of louboutin heels, their blood red soles staring at him.

Gillian stared at him for a while, before sighing. She swung her legs from the desk in one fluid motion, using the momentum to stand up, aided by a small push off the arms of the chairs. She dropped his keys on the desk, and slipped around the desk, walking towards Cal, who was still standing in the middle of the room. She stopped in front of him, as close as she could be without touching him.

"In answer to your question earlier," She murmured, as her eyes searching his face, "Is 'yes'. You still… have a chance. With me."

She stood still, waiting for him to unlock his body, and move. To kiss her, to hold onto her, to move away; anything. Cal exhaled slowly, and bowed his head, overwhelmed by the situation he was in. He couldn't believe this was happening. He lifted his head again, and saw Gillian biting her lip slightly, in anticipation. Waiting. For him.

He dipped his head towards her and pressed his lips to hers with such a force that Gillian took a small step backwards. She moved forwards again, and kissed him back, running her tongue across his top lip delicately, as she wound her arms around his shoulders in order to hold herself closer to him.

Cal suddenly pulled back, with a sharp intake of breath, as his tender back and shoulder protested angrily against the sudden pain that shot across them.  
>Gillian mirrored his movements, stepping back suddenly, unsure of what she'd done wrong. Cal extended his hand towards her, intending to show her she'd done nothing wrong before he explained to her that his sudden retreat had not been a result of his repulsion of her. But before he could speak, Gillian did.<p>

"Sorry," she said hurriedly, "I thought that-"

She stopped abruptly, as the sight before her. The hand Cal had extended was his right, and it was covered in lines of dried blood.

"My God, Cal!" she exclaimed at the sight of him, "What happened?"

"I fell over." He responded sheepishly, before starting to take off his coat to show her the extent of the damage.

As Cal exposed the damage done to his body, Gillian's eyebrows knitted themselves together with worry, and her hand shot to her mouth. She stepped forwards to help him free his hands from the coat, sliding them gently out of the sleeves, before dropping the coat on the floor. Her eyes drank the pitiful scene before her. She lifted her hands to his shirt, before pausing to ask Cal permission to uncover him. Cal nodded slightly, and Gillian slowly undid each button, being careful not to pull the fabric taut in case it hurt him further.

Once the last button was undone, she slowly slid the fabric down his arms, and dropped the shirt in a pile on top of his coat. Cal looked down at her hands, wondering what they were going to do next. Gillian lifted his head towards her with a finger, and kissed him softly on the lips, before pulling away again, walking around him.

Careful to miss the gashes that carved into his skin, she trailed her fingers gently across the muscle of his back, feeling them tense at the feel of her cool touch. As she completed her circle, her hand trailed down his good arm, and her fingers entwined his.

"What're we going to do with you?" She smiled at him.

She walked backwards, pulling him to the door, to the break room, where they kept the first aid kit.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

As he followed her, Cal smiled at her, a warm bubbling feeling brewing in his stomach at the thought of her laying her hands on his body, caring for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Cal was led into the staff room, and, with a gentle nudge, guided into a chair that had been scraped back from the table at some point during the day, and had been abandoned by the coffee machine. With a small bounce, Gill skipped to the shelf, and extracted the first aid kit, before placing it on the table near Cal. Just as Cal prepared himself for the work to begin, Gill skirted around him again, and left the room.

As the seconds passed, Cal considered following her, to see where she had gone, but just as he stood, Gill re-entered the room, carrying a bowl of steaming water, and Cal let himself drop back into his chair.

In silence, Cal watched as Gill set the bowl on the table, and flicked open the first aid box. She pulled out some antiseptic cream, and cotton wool balls, as well as some plasters and bandages. After squeezing a dollop of hand-wash on her hands, she wrung them together, rubbing it in, before tearing open the cotton wool balls, and extracting a handful, and plopping them into the bowl of water. She picked up one of the balls, and squeezed it, letting the water drip down her hand and wrist. She turned back to Cal, a wry smile playing on her lips.

She circled him, washing the dirt from his scrapes, and using a pair of tweezers she'd concealed in her palm once or twice to pull out stones and bits of gravel that had, unbeknownst to Cal, embedded themselves in his skin as he skidded across the floor. She treated his back, his ribs, and his shoulder, leaving his palms 'til last, when she could sit in front of him, and feel his breath near her face as she worked.

Cal rested his hands face upwards on the edge of his knees, as Gillian pulled out the stones from under his bloody, bruised hands. He watched her, her brow furrowed in concentration, her teeth resting softly on her lower lip, her tongue slipping out every so often to moisten her lips. Each time she did, it was all he could do not to moan. He wanted to kiss her.

Once she was done, Cal's eyes were watering; it had been strong salt water in the bowl. He took the opportunity to wipe his eyes and compose himself as Gill stepped aside to empty the bowl, and dispose of the grubby balls of cotton that had piled up on the table beside them.

She returned, grabbing the antiseptic cream from the table as she passed. She slipped behind him, poised to begin.

"Ready?" she asked, "It's going to be cold."

"Ready as I'll ever be, love," came Cal's reply, as he braced himself.

She untwisted the cap, and emptied half the tube onto her fingers. After throwing the tube lightly back on the table, she used her knuckles to gently shove Cal forwards, so she could reach his lower back. Once there, she studied the grazes crossing their way across his skin, mapping the track her hands would take as they smoothed and healed his broken skin. After her hesitation, Gill placed the palm of her hands on his shoulder, where the skin was red and inflamed, and felt the hot flesh contract as the cool cream spread its way across him, felt Cal inhale sharply as the shock of the cold, coupled with the sting of the cream hit his body.

"Sorry," Gill whispered, as her hands circled his shoulders, and slid down the small of his back, around his ribs, and slipped around his hips.

"Don't be," Cal murmured back, as he shut his eyes, ignoring the discomfort, and relaxing into the calming touch of Gillian that was being traced into his skin.

Once Gill was done, she stood, surveying her work. His back was still scraped and battered, but was now clean, and had a slightly greasy sheen, and Gill imagined the seal of the antiseptic shielding Cal's body from the invisible bacteria lurking in the air around them. She moved around him, feeling Cal lean into her as she brushed passed him.

She squeezed two pea-sized blobs of cream into her hands, and reached out for Cal. He reached out again, his palms upwards, as though he was begging, so that Gill could massage the ointment into them. After she had done so, Gill traced her nail carefully along the lines of his palms.

"We're done," she muttered, her voice breaking slightly as it cut through the silence.

"No, we're not," Cal growled huskily, and his hands clenched around her fingers, pulling her in towards him. He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding across her lip, making Gill inhale sharply at the intimacy of his contact. His hands slipped around her waist, pulling her forwards, and he leaned back without breaking the kiss. However, as he felt Gill pulling away, he stopped. He kissed her lips once again, before asking her silently with a single glance, what she wanted.

She slowly stood, her palms hooked behind his triceps, dragging him up clumsily along with her. She kissed his neck, letting him know she still wanted him, then turned, one hand still tracing its way across his chest, and walked out of the room, not looking behind her, knowing Cal would follow.

And follow he did, his eyes studying her body as it had done so many times before, watching the way her silky dress moved across her body, and knowing that this time it wouldn't be long before he got to see what was underneath. He stayed close behind her, breathing in her sweet smell, taking the time to appreciate her swaying hips, her lean, shaped legs, as it crossed his mind that he'd never been this intense about Wallowski; that has been purely physical, just sex, not once, as with Gill, had emotion played its part. Not once had he yearned for her the way he had for Gill.

Gill led him to his office, where she kicked off her heels, and turned one again to face him. Cal barely had the time to close the door before he was pressed up against it by the force of Gillian's body being thrust against him. She kissed him, her tongue teasing his, and Cal's mind was cleared of Wallowski, and of the dull pain of his grazes, as he was enveloped entirely by Gillian.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Sorry it's taken so long to update! I'm going to finish this all today, and post it. Keep reviewing!_**

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><p>Gillian could hardly believe what she was doing. She'd dreamed of this more times that she could ever count. But here she was, her lips against his, her hands caressing his skin, giving herself to him completely.<p>

With a forcefulness drawn from the realisation that his fantasies were fast becoming reality, Cal pushed back against Gillian, his hands grabbing hold of her shoulders, and spun her around so she was pressed against the door. He pushed his lips against hers, and felt her whimper and tremble as she fervently kissed back, her breathing slightly laboured. His tongue flicked out, subtly grazing her top lip, and he felt a groan build up deep in the pit of his stomach.

His hands snaked down her body, caressing her sides, touching the silky fabric of her dress, and feeling her soft curves beneath. Her dress was knee length, tight, hugging her thighs; Cal couldn't reach the bottom of them, so using the tips of his fingers, he inches the hem upwards, until he was able to curl his fingers around it, so he could touch the soft, pale flesh beneath.

Gillian spread her hands across his bare body, her palms flowing over the muscle of his stomach, before gliding upwards, over his chest, along his concave collarbones, and over his shoulders. Without breaking the kiss, Cal's hands slipped behind her, and in one slick motion he lifted her, holding her against him, and Gillian's legs curled their way around his waist, her dress hiked up around her hips. He took two steps backwards, before turning and walking to the couch that sat in the middle of his office.

Momentarily losing grace, he slid with a slight jolt into the chair, and laid back against the cool fabric, as Gillian, sitting on his lap, pressed herself forwards against him. The pressure of her lips eased momentarily as she opened her eyes, and found Cal's staring back at her, pupils wide, and face slightly flushed. His chin jerked upwards slightly, implying he wanted her to kiss him again, and she did… Kind of. Sliding her arms from around his neck, she placed them on either side of his face. She pecked him on the lips, the tip of his nose, before travelling across his cheek and kissing his neck, hands slipping from his face to his hair in one fluid motion.

As her tongue teased its way across his collarbones, Cal tilted his head back, letting out a breath of air. He quickly brought his head back up, he tipped his head to the side to catch Gillian's mouth with his. He eased his hands from underneath Gill's thighs, and slid them up her back. He fumbled around momentarily as his fingers searched for the zipper of her dress. It was small, and as he pulled it down, it slipped out of his fingers every few seconds.

Cal felt Gillian's lips spread into a smile as she felt him struggle, and she broke away, and sat up straight, pulling herself out of Cal's reach. She felt behind her, until she found the zipper, and pulled it down in one smooth motion until it stopped, just short of her coccyx.

She leaned forwards once again, and Cal thinking they'd kiss, leaned forwards to meet her. Instead, Gillian brushed her lips against his, drawing out the moment, and, Cal realised, making him want her more than he already did. She pushed back, slipping her feet to the floor, and stood. She spun on the balls of her feet until Cal was behind her, and nudged the dress over her shoulders, freeing her arms, exposing the smooth skin of her back, ribs slightly visible, the skin over her shoulder blades soft and beautiful, the vision broken only by the black net fabric of her bra.

"Holy…" Cal breathed, as he soaked up the sight before him.

The dress didn't slide to the floor; it caught up on her hips, but she made no move to remove it. It took a second or two for Cal to realise she was waiting for him, and he stood, meaning to creep up behind her, and wind his arms around her. However the sight of Gillian's body, the idea of him lying next to her, loving her in all the ways she deserved to be loved, had evoked a slightly physical reaction in Cal; his trousers were growing tighter by the second. Silently thanking God for the fact he'd put on a pair of boxers that morning, not a pair of old y-fronts, Cal quickly unbuckled his belt, and, wobbling slightly, kicked himself free of his trousers, before standing upright once again, behind Gillian, who by now was shaking slightly as she giggled at the sounds of the commotion behind her.

Cal took one step forwards, and placed his hands on her hips. Grabbing hold of a handful of dress in each hand, he gently shimmied the fabric over her hips, before releasing them, as the dress crumpled on the floor. Cal grinned to himself as he saw she was wearing-

"Matching undies, Foster?"

"Well," replied Gillian, as she blushed, "I think this night is pretty good evidence that, um, it's good to be prepared."

"Prepared?" Cal mused, "What could you possibly need to be prepared for?"

"Oh shut up," came the reply, and Gillian turned to face him, eyebrows flicking upwards in surprise; his stomach was firmer than she'd imagined, his belly button just below a crossroad of a the faint outline of a six-pack, and below that, a trail of thick curly hair that lead down below the band of his boxer shorts.

Cal smirked to himself, baring his teeth slightly as he saw her shapely figure, barely concealed by the black lace bra and French underwear. He'd fantasised about this moment before – he'd be lying if he said he hadn't - but my god, he thought to himself, she's more perfect that I'd imagined.

Cal stepped forwards, invading her personal space as he had done so many times before, this time, however, pulling her against him, one hand on her arm, and the other slipping up her back, expertly unhooking her bra as he kissed her. Gill's lips parted, and she kissed back, pushing her tongue against his as it snaked its way into her mouth, sliding its way across her lips. Gillian rolled her shoulders forwards, drawing herself into Cal, whilst on a practical level, freeing herself of the lace bra.

Cal took Gill by the wrist, and in one big loop, drew her once again to the sofa, but this time lying her lengthways along the sofa, and climbing on top, legs on either side of her hips, and his hands pinning her wrists on either side of her head. He dipped his head to hers, and kissed her on the lips.

He leaned further and further back, so he could kiss her neck, then her sternum. His mouth cupped one of her breasts, closing in on her nipple. With quiet breaths, he grazed his teeth up it, feeling her body respond as her nipple hardened.

He felt her hips bucking slightly beneath him, and he smiled. Cal let go of her wrists, and travelled further down, until his head was level with her hip bones. His hands slid down her thighs, and pulled them up, and around him as he felt Gillian's hands twist their way into his hair. He ducked his head, and dropped a soft trail of kisses from halfway up her thigh, stopping short of her underwear. He looked up, and saw Gillian's back arch as he gently pushed the lacy fabric aside, and slipped two fingers inside her.

Cal's thumb teased her clit, as his fingers slid in and out of her folds with increasing vigour. Gillian's breathing accelerated, and with every exhale she emitted a whimper of pleasure that increased in pitch with each thrust of Cal's hand. Cal's mouth grazed the soft skin of her inner thigh whilst his eyes remained locked on Gillian's heaving breasts, and only stopped when he felt Gillian tighten around his fingers.

He swiftly withdrew his hand, much to Gillian's dismay, and pulled her underwear down over her legs, over her feet, and threw them over his head, whilst Gillian, quickly catching on, sat up as her lacy underwear was thrown across the room. One of her hands slipped below the waistband of Cal's boxers, and caught hold of his bulging shaft, and as she stroked its length, whilst her other hand pulled down his boxers to expose him.

Cal leaned forwards, and kissed her, pushing her backwards until she lay flat against the sofa. One hand braced itself on the arm of the sofa, whilst the other rested on Gillian's hip. Her hands had left his member, and had wound their way around his chest, pulling him closer as her legs opened so he could enter her.

Gently at first, Cal plunged himself inside of her, but he quickly realised Gillian wanted him to go harder, faster, and he responded. Gillian's eyes closed as Cal rocked her hips against him with each thrust, and she bit her lip, trying to hold back a scream.

"Nobody here, love," Cal panted, "Just me."

"Fucking – Jesus!" cried Gillian, her nails digging into Cal's back as he thrust deeper and deeper inside of her, "Oh – Cal!"

The sound of his name being screamed by Gillian was something he'd dreamed of, but never thought could happen. He barely felt pain as Gillian's nails scraped his back further, caught up in the elation of the moment. He dipped his head, and kissed her, albeit briefly, before burying his head by her shoulder until he felt her tighten once again, as he himself felt the familiar tightening at the base of his shaft.

Cal lifted his head, and his eyes locked with Gillian's as his thrusts became faster, harder, and as he felt himself spill into her, he saw Gillian's eyes roll back with pleasure, and knew she was feeling the wave of warmth and happiness flood her body as he was feeling.

With a shallow grunt, Cal lowered himself next Gillian, watching her breathing steady. Cal's eyelids fluttered, feeling heavy, and Gillian sat up, and pulled the throw off the back of the sofa, and covered the two of them. She laid back down, this time her head resting on Cal's sternum, his arms wrapping themselves around her, and holding her tight against him.

Gill's eyes closed, and for the first time in a long time, she felt truly content. She felt a yawn shudder through Cal's body, and the humming of his chest as he murmured to her.

"Goodnight, Gill… I love ya."

Gill didn't have a chance to respond before Cal slipped into sleep. She spread her hands across her lover's stomach, and sighed.

"I know," she said, even though she knew he couldn't hear her, "I love you, too."

And with that, Gillian wiggled, if possible, closer to Cal, who shifted in his sleep to make more room for her, his arms tightening around her, and she, too, drifted off into the land of nod.

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><p><em><strong>I hope that wasn't too long for you... I didn't really want to split it up into many more chapters (not that I could think of a reason to split this). <strong>_

_**Please review!**_


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